


Why Did You Choose Me?

by PigeonLove



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7478901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigeonLove/pseuds/PigeonLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Elizabeth Keen embarks on a secret sexual relationship with the Concierge of Crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> This AU, somewhere-around-S1/S2 story includes sexual themes including domination and submission, mild bondage, perhaps romance. Please do not proceed if such things offend you. First ever fanfic posting, so typos, errors, bad writing are my own. I do not own The Blacklist or the characters.

Liz let her eyes stray from the journal and briefly close. She was exhausted but reading an academic psychology journal seemed the best way to keep the monsters at bay. Her dinner, a cold Heineken, was at her elbow. At the moment, she was unable to think about her job, her husband or her professional relationships without anxiety. Indeed, thinking about herself and whatever emotion she was feeling at the moment seemed dangerous.

Sobbing was not her usual method of dealing with despair. She was much more likely to explode or distract herself. Tonight she only had the energy for the latter. The maddeningly small print of the article “Suicidal Signals of Thrill Killers” swam before her eyes and she sighed. The image of Tom rose in her mind and she shoved it away, sitting up and nearly spilling the beer.

“Shit-” She jumped up and merely splashed herself with beer instead of bathing in it.

As she went to grab a towel there was a brisk knock at the door. Her training made her suspicious immediately. It was after 8:30 pm and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Beer and journal forgotten, she went towards the door. 

“Who is it?” She demanded as firmly as possible.

“It’s me.” 

Raymond Reddington was at her door. Liz did not relax. She opened the door slowly, belatedly aware of her beery t-shirt and sweatpants and her completely messed up hair. He was nattily dressed as usual, a fine grey wool suit under his navy raincoat, with a rakish fedora.

“I brought dinner.” He indicated the brown paper shopping bag in his hand and a wine bottle under his arm.

“Dinner” She repeatedly reflexively, suppressing a sigh. 

“Well, thank you, of course I’d love to come in.” He pushed passed her and set his gifts down on the small round table. She closed the door and stood there watching him. He seemed to be making himself at home. He draped his coat on the back of the chair.

“Come on Lizzie, sweet potato gnocchi with chanterelles from Ponte Vecchio. It’s delicious.” He sat down and laid a napkin on his lap and began fishing around in the paper bag, bringing out containers.

“What are you doing here.?” She said through tight lips. She slumped down in the other chair, not caring at the moment how slovenly she appeared. The gnocchi, swimming in their sauce in the cardboard container did smell amazing, however and her stomach instantly came to life.

“I needed some company for dinner and I thought you did too.” He looked at her with his inscrutable oceanic eyes and speared a gnocchi on his fork. 

That seemed amazingly normal, even friendly, for Raymond Reddington. Liz didn’t trust it.

“Really, you’re here with me instead of… some world famous opera star or...some evil mastermind.” 

“Two evil masterminds at dinner make for such awkward conversation.” With a pocket corkscrew he deftly pulled the cork out of the wine bottle and poured some into a clear plastic cup for her. “Have a drink, it goes well with the pasta.”

It did. Liz began to eat and drink in earnest, reveling in the decedent flavors. It was undeniable that that eating dinner personally selected and delivered to you by Reddington was flattering. 

“This is really good.” She said, spooning up more of the sauce.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He said, in the way that he had; that soft rumble that always arrested her attention. “I was concerned about you.” His smile melted away slowly as he sipped his wine.

“Were you? I wish you were concerned when are tormenting me with your opaqueness.” She managed to laugh, though what she said was actually quite painful. The wine on top of the beer just made it easier to say.

Red managed to look pained. “I don’t mean to torture you; you know I -” He abruptly drank from his cup. He looked at the middle distance and said no more. Just as suddenly a smile brought sunshine to his face for a few seconds and was gone. He kept looking at her.

She shivered involuntarily. Even in silence she could feel his power seduce. Something tied them together, something even beyond her past. He knew something about her family - maybe even was family of some kind; but the way he was looking at her was not filial; his eyes sparkled with some unspoken emotion.

It was too much to bear. Liz dropped her eyes to the cup and took a drink of the velvety wine. She bent over her meal with renewed attention and focused on the flavor and sensation. It was in this lengthening silence that she grew self-conscious and regretted her disheveled appearance - which was absurd, because Red had certainly seen her at her worst. It was just that he appeared so perfect. She tried to tuck an unruly lock of hair behind her ear discreetly. 

“You look beautiful.” He said softly, continuing to eat, eyes not leaving her face. 

She stood up, gathering her mostly empty containers to take to the kitchen, and put them on the counter. She washed her hands and splashed some cool water on her face. She needed some distance after receiving his undivided attention. She’d thought she would be the one paying court, listening to his amusing stories and being his audience. This was quite something else.

“Come back Lizzie, I brought profiteroles!” He called out gaily. After a deep breath, she returned and sat, smiling, mirroring his cheerfulness. “They were all out of cannolis but these will do, trust me.” 

“I love cream puffs.” She said brightly. She was in control again. Some emotional break had been averted and she was almost giddy with relief. She didn’t need to collapse like a ninny in front of Red tonight.

“So do you have another blacklister in mind for the task force - “ She inquired, licking custard from her thumb. He waved the question away with a cream puff.

“I don’t want this occasion to be about work - this is recreational.”

“Mm, okay,” She murmured, reaching for another tiny cream puff. They were really delicious as everything had been. Her mind searched for a safe topic. Safe from what? an inner voice questioned sardonically. 

“Well, that and everything else, was delicious, truly. Much better than what I had planned. Haven’t eaten like that in a while.”

“You deserve meals like that all the time. Good food, good wine, and company.” He toasted her with a cream puff and popped the whole thing in his mouth. He ate it with gusto and she couldn’t help smiling. But somehow, the lighthearted moment ended and once more he was looking at her, and she felt a tug in her chest. She searched around for something to say but Red didn’t rescue her. He merely took his cup of wine and sipped, looking at her.

“Why Red, why did you come here tonight?” She asked softly, afraid of the answer. Her eyes were suddenly swimming with tears.

“What is it?” He rose, tossing down his paper napkin and came to her, hands on her shoulders. 

“It’s t-too much, Tom, how I’ve changed…” She sniffer “ and you, what you are hiding from me.” She broke off, the emotional breakdown she’d feared was here.

“Shhh, shhh.” He embraced her, his firm arms around her shoulders and she cried quietly against him. Even so, she was aware of the wisp of sandalwood and cigar smoke about him. His body was warm and his embrace sustained. Despite her stress and exhaustion, she was aware of his closeness and his maleness.

“Lizzy, shhh” He whispered into her hair and she shivered at the sound. Was this a deliberate manipulation? She was disturbed about how easy it was for him to pull her strings. You want him, a small voice whispered, that’s why it’s so easy….

“I’m okay.” She dabbed her eyes with a napkin as she smiled ruefully. “I was just - exhausted. This meal, this was really great. Everything was great. I’m just tired.”

“I’ll let the Chef at Ponte Vecchio know to not take the weeping personally.” Red quipped, releasing her. His physical warmth was gone. She didn’t want the embrace to end. They finished the last bit of the wine in companionable silence.

“Well, it has been lovely, but I do have a business to run.”

Liz was surprised - especially by how much she didn’t want him to go, even to the point of thinking of a protesting his departure. But she would not act on that.

“Okay, well, I appreciate the meal and you coming by.” They rose and he began clearing the table, Liz in tow.

“I find a little domesticity can be very centering.” He smiled his 100 watt charm smile at her as he dumped the empty containers in the trash. She didn’t want him to leave but couldn’t think of how to make him stay.

After he washed and dried his hands, he buttoned his suit jacket and went to the living room for his coat and hat, standing by the door to doff them.

Liz followed and impulsively put her hand on his shoulder as he fixed his collar. 

“I really needed this tonight. I want to thank you for thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking of you.” He said simply. Liz could have fallen into his arms just then; the idea that she did want to be rescued by this powerful man who was in control startled her. As an expression of affection, It didn’t seem quite normal or even healthy. She always thought of herself as supremely in control. She wanted to touch him again, but resisted, putting her hands behind her and clasping them.

“I enjoyed your impromptu hospitality and the crying added an operatic touch to the proceedings.” He said pleasantly.

“You are welcome.” Liz said, with equanimity; then bit her lip so she didn’t say more.

He came towards her - a friendly kiss -? She wondered, but instead he embraced her again. The length of his body was pressed against hers, they were touching. He didn’t break it off, but held her firmly against him, breast to breast, pelvis to pelvis. She smelled him again, her face turned towards his neck, his hands held her back, firmly pressing her to him. It was a long embrace.

He gently released her; his eyes reluctant to meet hers; so surprising for Red of all people. 

“Goodnight Lizzie.” He drawled in his seductive voice. His eyes dropped down her body then to her face as if he was drinking her in. Just for a second look, naked desire showed on his face then it was gone, as if it never had been. 

“Good night Red.” A throaty whisper was all she could manage. Her heart was pounding. Sexual desire damped all other feelings or ideas. She could not help but that think that desiring sexual attention from him would put her into a strange ,dark and vulnerable place. 

When she finally closed the door she stood there breathlessly for a long time. In many ways it seemed wrong, this attraction for someone who both tormented her and protected her. What uncovered this feeling? The idea that somehow she knew he wanted her? His power? His ambivalence? 

This wasn’t an ordinary flirtation. This wasn’t an ordinary man.


	2. The Ribbon

It had been more that a few weeks since the dinner and Red had not made any kind of non-work contact with her at all. She saw him fairly regularly, of course and she'd had many public and private interactions with him. Nothing even hinted at the desire he revealed or the connection she'd felt between them; even the light touch of his hand at her elbow as they walked together seemed merely courtesy.

It was too exquisitely painful. He filled her thoughts and was the target of all her desires. Liz was a trained psychologist and she surmised it was mostly likely due to her recent multiple traumas - she was simply using this strange and powerful man to distract her from unresolved pain. It was very well to do the analysis but her mind always returned to that night looking for meaning: his look of desire, the embrace, the smell of his skin. It was becoming obsessive

Becoming, Liz? She questioned herself sarcastically. It was obsessive and the unfulfilled need for his attention rose up to force everything else aside.

In the darkened room, her phone gave off an aquarium glow. Her thumb hovered over the call icon, trembling with indecision.

Why give in? So he can snap shut whatever opening he briefly revealed? 

Her thumb tapped the phone seemingly of it’s own accord. He picked up immediately.

“Lizzy” He purred. He was alert despite the late hour.

She was mute then suddenly she whispered, her lips dry.

“I need you.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” He said, firm and serious. He disconnected.

A sea of regret flooded her. What could he think she meant? It was so foolish to admit. 

Her mind kept tumbling as she ran through the apartment, straightening up, discarding her clothes and tossing them towards a corner of the room. She threw open her closet and found only functional clothing. Since Tom’s betrayal, she’d had no use for frothy underthings. 

The best she could do was a set of man-tailored midnight blue satin pajamas. She didn’t even remember wearing them before. After a second she pulled off her panties. She unhooked her bra and tossed that aside as well. The bed was neat, thank god. She ran to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, heart pounding. She tousled her hair; it seemed quite serviceable today. She had no time for elaborate makeup but found a lip gloss and gave her lips a shine. She considered the pajama shirt and unbuttoned the top button. It fell apart a little, showing the beginning shadow of her cleavage. 

The result was a mixed bag; she could be going to bed, not getting ready for sex. At least there was no beer spilled on her.

Before she had a chance to critique her own appearance yet again, the doorbell rang. A warmth filled her body, made her legs tremble. It was long seconds while she's stood there, imagining him embracing her, kissing her in the manner of every ridiculous girlish dream. Would he look at her inscrutably and demur, gently letting her down or would he be smug and amused that this young woman was taken with him. During this rather distasteful reverie, the doorbell rang again and she jumped, opening it with cold fingers. She shrank a little inside, realizing how little she could predict his actions, how little she truly knew him.

“Hello Lizzy.” He smiled. He removed his raincoat and hat. As usual he was wearing a fine suit, perfectly tailored, with a umber silk tie . He smelled like an expensive cognac. She felt nothing but embarrassment . She called him away from some delightful entertainment, perhaps an after dinner drink with a friend... or a woman. 

She closed the door and leaned against it, looking down, gathering her will to speak. 

“Hello Red.” She felt so stupid, having nothing planned, nothing to say. She took a deep breath and walked past him into the living room. As she passed, he grabbed her right wrist gently and she slowed, turning towards him. The low light of the lamp left his face hard to read. 

“You needed me Lizzy?“ He looked directly into her eyes drawing her attention against her will. It was all she could do not to answer yes. She said nothing. Her throat was filled with cotton and if she spoke, tears would follow. She wanted him so badly but she didn't know why. Was she self destructive? Or she simply of goggle-eyed schoolgirl after a sophisticated worldly man. 

“You need me Lizzy.” It was no longer a question. He led her gently to the living room and then went and took a dining chair into the living room.. She stood in the middle of the room, suddenly cold, her movement halted. She was afraid. He could so easily wound her. What could be worth the vulnerability she felt right now?

Red took her by the shoulders and seated her into the chair. It was quite clear he was not going to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. Apparently he was going to give her a good paternal talking-to. The dismay left her unable to lift her eyes to his.

“I'm going to give you what you what I think you need.” He nodded seriously.

Out of the inside pocket of his fine suit, he pulled a long black grosgrain ribbon, folded upon itself. He started unrolling and now he had her full attention. 

He walked behind her in the chair and touched her left upper arm and circled it with the ribbon and made a gentle knot. He pulled the ribbon across her back and then did the same to her other arm, and then tied a bow between them. In effect, she was bound with her arms slightly behind her. She could have easily resisted the binding if she needed to but there was no need. From behind the chair, Red rubbed down her shoulders, his hands warm against her arms, and slid his hands along the blue satin shirt front. She should have expected a game. She was aroused, and her pale cheeks flushed.

He touched her breasts through the satin and she inhaled sharply at the warmth and gentleness of his palms. He caressed her slowly, his fingers finding her hardening nipples through the slippery cloth. His breath was on her neck, as he leaned over her. The sweet brush of it against her skin made her shiver.. His hands slid across to the first button and he opened it his fingers gliding across her collarbone and décolletage and down again to her breasts, cupping one then both into his hands, his fingers finding her nipples, stroking them gently.

She breathed softly as her hard nipples tingled with stimulus.

“This is what you need. Lizzy you need someone to take possession of you.”

“Red.-” She began, but was quite unable to finish . She wanted him to possess her, as he was. 

He came back around to face her and knelt in front of her. She slid forward and tilted her to hips up as if to coax him to her, to touch her hot center. 

He looked up and smiled, a smile which made it clear who was in charge. He pulled apart the lapels of her shirt and unbuttoned the last two remaining buttons. He then leaned forward and kissed her breasts and her belly, letting his tongue roam across her nipples, her ribs and abdomen. She moaned, her clit was pulsing with desire. He covered her with gentle caresses.

“Red, Red, touch me here.”

She opened her legs wider, tilting her pelvis upward. He stuck two fingers in her elastic waistband and began pulling them down, the silky material making a hushing sound. She lifted up her butt to help him; his hands slid over her hips, pulling the pants down over her ass. She gazed into his eyes, her pussy moist and her face flushed with lust. He let a smile play around his mouth. She was now nude from the waist down. He surveyed her, his eyes passing over her body. His head dipped down to her pussy and stayed there a moment inhaling her scent with his eyes closed.

He then used the tip of his tongue to gently push against her tiny erect bud. She cried out softly as he began stroking it up and down with a touch as soft as raindrops. His strokes became firmer; it seemed as if he was determined to make her come right then. She looked down at his close-shorn head between her thighs and she longed to cup his head gently in her fingers. She flexed her toes as a vibration passed through her body. She was slowly pumping her hips along with his movements, she was so close.

Red lifted his head and looked at her with clouded eyes. 

“Mmm, that was delightful.” He smiled, as if recalling his fine cognac.

He got up, carefully adjusting his lapels and brushing off of microscopic mote of dust from his sleeve. Liz gaped at him, her body thrumming with unexploded tension.

“Red…” She began, looking at him through strands of her damp and tousled hair. She moved forward and the ribbons stopped her.

“I'm sorry Liz. I told my dining companion I had some important business and would be back by the time they hand out the cigars.”

“You…”, Desire was beginning to be replaced by bewilderment . “You're leaving?” 

Yes Lizzy, you seem in much better spirits now so I thought I would return to my evening .I'm going to leave you here to take care of yourself. If this was the right time I would…” He looked down her naked form. 

“It's just a bow”. He bent down and kissed her forehead in a fatherly way and put an end of the ribbon in her hand. “Give it a tug.”

Liz looked up at him, her eyes flinty 

“I can't believe you're doing this to me”. The heat of her body was rapidly cooling. His imminent departure was like a cold slap.

“But I've done it. Have a good night Lizzy.” He crossed to the door, snatching up his coat and hat and let himself out . 

She sat there as she tugged on the ribbon and slowly released her arms as the knot slackened. 

Of course, he left again - and she was unfulfilled, tantalized and frustrated. 

She retreated to the bedroom and lay down and quickly, almost angrily, gave herself the only fulfillment she had had for a long time. He had wanted her… but he loved playing games more. She fell into a black and empty sleep.


	3. The Detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liz is having a tough time. Hope you stick with her (and me) through this next chapter. Thanks to all readers and feedback. As a reminder/warning, this is an explicit story.

It was more of the same - the distance, the disconnect, the refutation that anything had even happened. Liz wanted to confront him, demand answers. He was aloof, witty when appropriate, focused on their work.

He didn’t even look at her much. She felt as if she had been emptied out. There was nothing more to give. In turn, she avoided him. It was the only way she could hold onto herself. A thousand post mortems of that evening left her with no answers, except that she was crazy to feel anything for him. 

That’s why she found herself where she was late on a Wednesday night. Her hand hovered over the doorbell. She plunged her finger down. What the hell, what the hell, she thought. She was dressed provocatively; she smelled nice. She wore a skirt that was not the norm for her.

Her heart was pounding because what she was doing was crazy and daring and all a reaction to Red, trying to pull away from him and the obsessive thoughts of her own mind.

Donald opened the door but his impassive cop face showed no surprise or alarm. He was in a t-shirt and jeans (t-shirt tucked in, of course). There was a pair of brown flip flops on his feet. In lighter circumstances, she would have definitely made fun of that. 

“Keen, is something wrong?” His pale blue eyes surveyed her, assessing, absorbing - just like a cop. She was made-up to highlight her beauty, ruby lips against pale skin and dark hair with mascared dark blue eyes; A silky v-neck blouse was tucked into her snug-fitting pencil skirt. She wore black high-heeled pumps.

“Going somewhere?” He asked bemusedly. 

“Yes, here.” She said in what she hoped was a sexy and confident tone. She leaned forward a little and he stepped back. She slid passed him, deliberately taking her time, so she could brush against him,

He let her in; he didn't step back.

A pang went through her - what if he already had someone here ? Then she would turn around and crawl away in embarrassment. But his masculine if blandly modern apartment was empty of other people. There was a TV remote on the grey leather couch and a bowl of grapes on the metal coffee table, mostly eaten. The flat screen was off. 

“You interrupted my evening’. He said, with the briefest of smiles.

She looked around and wondered how she got here: through intense trauma, a destroyed marriage and an extremely unavailable and game playing potential lover with whom she was obsessed. It was a desperate move to sever herself from her previous circumstances. This was the most extraordinary yet abrupt way she could think of doing so.

And what of Ressler ? You lack empathy, said her inner critic; it shows just how far you've been degraded. 

She turned to face him and began unbuttoning her blouse. His eyebrows rose in a flash a surprise and became stoic once more 

“Something you want to talk about?” He folded his arms 

“No talking. I was hoping there wouldn't be any talking.”

“Liz, this is pretty crazy. Why are you doing this?”

His voice softened and he came over to her, closing his warm hands on her upper arms, arresting her motion.

“No sympathy Ressler. I just wanted distraction. No strings.” 

She looked at his full and rather attractive mouth. He stayed close, made no retreat . 

A distraction? His male pride seems ruffled. This conversation has succeeded in putting Red (mostly)out of her mind . She turned to how to get Ressler into bed. She placed her palm against his crotch. His eyes glanced down at her body and back to her face and mouth. 

“This is pretty nuts Keen” . He whispered huskily. “How are we supposed to work together tomorrow after this?” 

“Just put it out of your mind and focus on your work. You practice that a few times and you're good to go “. She whispered, removing her hand from his crotch and pulling him closer. He didn't resist; their bodies were pressed together. 

“If you are sure, I'm okay with it.” He maintained the embrace.

“Okay then.” Liz breathed, letting herself enjoy his compact muscular body. She ran her hands up his back and grab the edge of his t-shirt and tugged upward. It didn't matter. She threw herself into the moment, enjoying the feel of his muscled back and shoulders under her hands. She pulled the t shirt over his head, messing his hair up, making him look young and boyish. His hands slid up her waist and he did the same, gently pulling her blouse out of the waistband of the tight skirt. His hand slipped under blouse and slowly up her rib cage to her breasts.

He kissed her softly with his lips and then searchingly, his tongue probing her mouth .

Suddenly Reds image and voice came to her mind and she furiously thrust them away, responding to Ressler with fervor. She would not spoil this excitement by dwelling on what could not be. And here was a handsome partner, his sexual responsiveness a soothing balm to her raw and painful ego. She felt his erection through his jeans as he pressed against her belly. His hands slid down to her ass and he held her close. She let her hands roam over his muscled torso and arms in delight as he kiss her more hungrily reaching up and delicately opening the blouse and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped her breasts through her sheer bra and nuzzled them. She reached down to open his jeans and revealed a pair of tight blue briefs, his cock rigid and saluting to the left. 

She stroked his cock through the fabric enjoying the throbbing beneath her fingers. She reached back to unhook her bra and unzip the skirt. Ressler took the opportunity to slide off his jeans and kick them away. 

He pulled her to him and begin bathing her breasts with his tongue, sucking alternately on her hard nipples she reached into the waistband of his tight briefs and released his cock. She stroked her palm gently over the head then she reached down and cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. 

“Come on let's go to the bedroom. “ She let him lead the way to the darkened room. She sat on the bed and gently nudged him to face her. She pulled off his tight briefs and his hard cock sprung free. She bent her head to take it into her mouth, relishing the hardness and the smoothness of it. He grunted as she began moving her head up and down. He curled his fingers into her hair, stroking it back as she slid his cock into her mouth.

She knew he was enjoying it by the deepening of his breath but he gently tapped her and she looked up at him.  
“Come on let's lay down together.” He said. he laid beside her in the bed and slipped his hand passed her upper thigh and over her pussy mound. As he gently stroked and probed her pussy she was grasping and tugging on his hard cock. They were both breathing heavy, 

“Put your cock inside of me.” She whispered.

Ressler obliged and spread her legs. He lowered himself on her and slipped his hard cock into her throbbing pussy. It felt so good. It was something that she had really missed about not having a husband and it was something that Red did not seem to care to supply. Ressler begin thrusting his hips rhythmically, pumping her pussy with his cock as he leaned his head down to nuzzle her breasts. She wrapped her legs around him, taking his cock deeper as she pulled at his hair. His face was shadowed in the darkness and Liz preferred this. Right now she just wanted to get fucked and didn't want to think about any other ramifications. 

Ressler seem to sense her desire and pounded her, pumping hard. With closed eyes, she imagined Red above her, looking at her in his intense way, pleasuring her with his cock, saying her name, covering her with kisses. She came, quickly and quietly, only a gasping sigh to let her partner know. Ressler then let himself go, with a quickening thrust, just as quietly. He lay on her a moment, embracing her briefly and then rolled off. 

Tears pricked at her eyes and she didn’t want him to see. It wasn’t his fault that she was crazy.

She planted what she hoped was an affectionate kiss on his cheek and slid off the bed, gathering her clothes. He sat up, watching her wordlessly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said nonchalantly, ignoring the wetness on her cheeks.

“Sure Keen.” He said softly. 

She didn’t look back as she left, and she waited until the elevator doors closed behind her to wipe her flowing tears away.


	4. The Garage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments. I really appreciate everyone taking the time to read. This chapter is mostly fun, I think, in the smuttiest way, of course. More explicit content ahead.

It was possibly the worst she'd felt since ‘Tom’ left; certainly the most out of control. Ressler seemed unphased in his stoically masculine way about their interlude and of course, it was a complete failure in taking Reddington off her mind.

The crime lord had been quite aloof of late. Cooper suggested he was out of the country - an idea that Liz couldn't entertain. She started many fanciful conversations in her head to explain herself, to justify her actions: actions that didn't need justification or explanation. She didn't owe Reddington anything. She owed herself some peace of mind. 

When his call finally came, Liz was cool.

"You have something for us?" She asked in what she hoped was a tone of mild annoyance.

"Something for you Agent Keen. Meet me on the lower level of the parking garage at 143 Livermore."

He hung up before she could say no. She shook her head, admiringly. His sense of drama was as effective as ever. Liz told Aram quietly she had to slip out and she was gone. Ressler didn't even look up when she passed.

She was still waiting more than 20 minutes when he appeared out of the shadows of the empty garage. 143 Livermore had seen better and more tenants. There were few cars parked; mostly it was deserted. His footsteps, though soft, were the only sound.

Liz was leaning on her black SUV, studying her nails, skepticism on her face.

"So, what do you have for me?" She said with far more indifference then she felt. He looked handsome - hatless now and as he grew closer, Liz realized he was wearing dark jeans and a black sweater. He looked like he was ready to commit a jewel theft and Liz almost smiled at the image that came to mind. The happiness of seeing him made her almost forget to be angry. You're losing yourself Liz, she warned herself internally.

"The name of my mother perhaps? Who my father is? Any of that? I guess I will just go then." 

"Come now Elizabeth, don't feign disapprobation. You're here." He tilted his head and nodded, as to himself. How could she argue? She was with him, in this darkened garage.

"So what do you have?" She asked briskly, folding her arms as he approached, entering her personal space. He touched her face with his hand, gently lifting her chin, examining her closely.

"How was it?" He asked, softly and seductively. He moved closer and she reluctantly dropped her arms to her sides.

"How was what?" She answered in kind, in a low voice, staring back at his ocean-colored eyes as firmly as she was able.

Reddington half-smiled, his hand still on her cheek. Was he angry? Liz's heart started beating faster as he looked deeply into her eyes. She was slightly afraid of what he was going to do...and slightly something else. He was close enough to kiss and she glanced at his full mouth for a moment and back to his eyes. His eyes bored into her as if she was the only thing on earth. Inside she was trembling. His tongue darted out of his lips for a second and his half-smile vanished.

"Lift up your skirt and face the car." He ordered in his low controlled voice, dropping his hand from her cheek. She blinked, and gave an infinitesimal shake of her head. She was so certain he was going to kiss her.

"Elizabeth, you've fucked Donald and now I am going to have to punish you, for poor taste, if nothing else." He lifted his brows, looking at her in a way that brooked no debate.

"Lift up your skirt and face the car." He whispered fiercely, eyes blazing.

She realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out slowly, trying to control it. She could stop this now, stop him, demand something more than this. She could, she told herself.

Liz gripped the hem of her skirt and peeled it up over her ass and turned away from him. She shut her eyes tightly, unsure of what he was going to do next. All she could hear was his breathing.

Liz laid her palms flat on the still warm hood of the SUV, her butt facing Reddington. She gasped when she felt his hands on her waist, under her bunched-up skirt, his fingers warm. He snagged the waistband of her bikini underwear and pulled them down. He gently lifted each foot in turn and took them completely off her. She now felt a slight breeze on her exposed ass and pussy. He just stood behind her for long moments until she made a move to turn around and he stopped her with a hand against her shoulder.

"You are so agreeable Lizzy. And clearly not just with me. You were eager to be fucked I suppose, is that right?" His voice was like a water moccasin - all the danger was below the surface. He wanted an answer. Shakily, with eyes shut, she nodded.

"Say it. I want you to tell me " His deep rich voice made her arms and legs tingle.  
Her clit was throbbing with desire.

"I was eager to be fucked." She whispered, licking her lips.

"And what do you want right now?" He moved closer until he was standing behind her and she could feel his naked cock pressing against her ass. It was hard and big. His arms held her arms down on the hood.

"I want to get fucked." She slumped forward, grinding her ass against his hardness.

"Shall I get Donald?" He hissed against her ear.

"No, no. I want you to fuck me." She breathed, spreading her legs and lifting up her hips.

"Say it again."

"I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me." Her legs were weak, her clit and pussy lips were swollen and wet. This was what she'd wanted, what she thought of late at night, what she thought of whenever she heard his voice. A stinging noisy slap against her buttcheek startled her. He slapped her ass again, hard, and it stung.

"P-please." She begged. She wanted to feel his cock so bad. He smacked her ass with vigor, until it was smarting in pain and she was gasping and whimpering bent over the hood of the car.

"Please fuck me Red." She was nearly crying with want.

With a grunt, he grabbed her hips and slammed his length into her pussy and she cried out, muffling her yelp against her arm. He began sliding his hardness into her core with a staccato rhythm. Her pussy clenched around his ramrod.

"Oh my god yes, yes." She cried, as his cock pumped into her pussy relentlessly. There was a flash of headlights as a car entered the far side of the garage. Red fucked her harder, grabbed her shoulders, grunting with effort. Her fingers curled involuntarily as the first thrums of her orgasm began.

She moaned wordlessly, limply helpless against his movements, as waves of pleasure rolled through her center. Red thrust into her once, then again with a stifled groan, Hot jets of his come filled her pussy as his body jerked against her. He rested his forehead upon her shoulder. They were both damp with sweat.

The driver emerged from the car and glanced around as if he’d heard something. But he didn’t see them in the darkened garage and made his way to the elevator.

Liz watched the man go as Red pulled back and began putting himself back in order. She marveled at the exquisite sensations that had over taken her body, how much she’d wanted just what he gave her. She’d never done anything quite so wild as this.

And now? More weeks of emptiness, then some other adventure he orchestrated? 

She pulled her skirt down, still facing away from him, blankly staring into the darkness. Maybe he would say something now, or try to embrace her or even a kiss would be nice, she mentally shrugged. 

Red gently grasped her arm and turned her to him and she met his eyes. His eyes blazed with an intensity he rarely allowed to be seen. She was tense, almost embarrassed by what happened to look at him too directly. He cupped her cheek and kissed her mouth with such unexpected warmth and sweetness she didn’t respond for a moment. But then she softened and let his lips press over hers. He pulled back, still holding her face, looking into her eyes and then his retreat began, like the the long shadows of afternoon sun turning to darkness.

He let go of her, stepped back and away and turned with a tilt of his head. This escapade was over and now he was gone.


	5. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but not very sweet, I'm afraid...

Chapter 5

Liz sipped her inexpensive chardonnay and smiled at her imagining Red's reaction to it. She lay on the couch, reflecting on their last encounter with pleasure. She still wasn't able to find her panties and had gone back to the post office without them. His kiss still lingered on her mouth days later. She touched her lips with her fingertips, remembering the heat and the wet. The memory would have to do for now.

She took another swallow of wine and closed her eyes, recalling the feel of his cock pounding into her. Her hand trailed down to her breast and she cupped it gently, running her fingers over her bra and blouse. She did the same for her other breast, until both nipples were stiffened. She traced them through the cloth and pinched lightly, imagining Red doing the same.

She then slid her hands down to the waistband of her pants and unbuttoned them, slipping her right hand into her underwear, playing with the soft hair of her mound. Now, in her mind, Red was playing with her pussy, looking back to her with his gorgeous eyes to see the effect he was having. Liz spread her legs slightly on the couch and ran a finger over her labia, which were wet and getting wetter. She slid a finger into her moist opening and pressed against her mound, and began humping her hand. She would love Red to pound her this way, holding her arms down as she begged for more. She began circling around her clit, faster and faster as she saw Red's lustful face above hers in her mind's eye. She recalled his orgasm, his body thrusting against her, shuddering. She cried out as her orgasm shook through her, her slick pussy pulsing. Softly sighing, she relaxed her tense muscles and took another sip of wine.

She'd been girding herself for Red's emotional vanishing act so when his call came, merely three days after their encounter, she'd been caught off guard. A profiler, even a terrible one, lived by reading patterns. Once again she was wrong in her expectation.

"Hello Lizzy." His warm smoky voice filled her ear. He could make you believe he was right next to you so easily.

"Hello Red." She said, considering her words with care. It was as if he was some wild animal she didn't want to scare with sudden movements.

Maybe he was going to give her another order.

"Elizabeth...I'm going to be away for a while."

"A while?" She echoed, annoyed at her needy tone.

"Yes, maybe some weeks, or longer."

It was almost impossible to suppress her disappointment, so she said nothing.

"I'm sorry, it's just some business I can't avoid." He did sound genuinely regretful but how was she to know? She was less sure than ever in her ability to understand anything about others thoughts or feelings.

"Ok, will you be accessible..." she shut her eyes, cursing her inability to stop the want....

"No, I won't be available."

Now or ever, she mused bitterly

"Alright. Thank you for letting me know." She reverted to Agent Keen and a businesslike tone. It seemed the safest option.

"Elizabeth...." He paused and she read his ambivalence. He wanted to say more yet was unable to. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. "You'll be protected, don't worry. I will make sure processes are in place to keep you safe. "

That was the best he could give, she thought sadly, that's all that he is offering.

"Thank you." Her heart was speeding up, as anger started to bloom in her chest. "I'll see you soon, I guess, I mean, whenever, right, whenever you feel like you need a quick fuck or something.." She fell silent, waiting for his response, gathering her strength knowing there wouldn’t be one. “You care so much about me right...you’re “protecting” me but not so worried about treating me like shit.” All of a sudden, she wouldn’t or couldn’t stop.

“You think I like being one of your little “adventures”. For such a brilliant man, you’re not very good at reading me, are you? I am tired of this bullshit, I am tired of me basically being at your beck and call whenever you have some freaky itch to scratch. I….I’m done.” She was breathing heavily by the time she was done.

He said nothing but didn't disconnect and she listened to his light breathing for a few moments and then he was gone. She tapped the hang up button and tossed the phone on the couch. She picked up her glass and threw it fiercely against the wall, where is shattered, scattering glass on the rug.

Well, Liz, I guess you won’t have to worry about him calling you again. She being picking up the shards, her nose running down her face, her eyes wet, until she couldn’t see what she was doing. She grabbed her phone again and held it, crying. The ball of regret in her stomach was a physical pain. She wanted to take it all back, apologize, let him know that he could call her and she would answer, whenever, and do what he asked. She let the phone slide out of her limp hand onto the floor. There was no use. It was over.


	6. The Office

Liz jogged in the morning. At night, she did yoga. She worked her way steadily through her Netflix queue and through all the new restaurants in her area. She groomed and dressed with care, indulged in her favorite lattes, even had an occasional foot massage at the nail salon, and went to bed early - she was loving herself. She was going to do that even if no one else was.

The tears she’d shed about Tom were growing rarer. There was something at the end of this road and she wanted to see what it was. Above all, she treated herself gently. The neediness she’d expressed with Reddington indicated just how fragile she was. 

All this love she shown herself was a bulwark against what was coming. It was easy when he was not there - then she could file him away in the darkest corner, where Tom was already tossed and fiercely refocus on something else. But Reddington was not through with her yet. She didn’t mean the sex...but the work, the secrets, the investigations. He needed or wanted something from that, and he was not the man to give up on such a goal, especially if it enhanced his power. He wanted something from her...but he didn’t want her. When she let this truth come to the surface of her mind, it burned like a brilliant sunbeam off chrome, harsh but illuminating. And she behaved accordingly. 

So her reserves were strong when he made his appearance at the post office.There hadn’t been any calls or contact for 8 weeks. Cooper had speculated their time together was done but Liz knew better. 

Red arrived looking tanned, as if he’d been touched by sunny climes. His mid-weight dark charcoal grey suit was perfect, but his face seemed tired. He removed his hat with a small flourish. His eyes glanced over the team, gathered as they were. His eyes did not linger on her, but they were drawn back to her again. She looked at him with equanimity then back down to her laptop.

She couldn’t help but feel relieved at how good she looked. She was wearing a new blouse, with large pale watercolor flowers on it. It was more feminine than her usual work clothes and it was tucked into a black pencil skirt, which was short enough to display the toning effects of her yoga practice. Small earrings and a light shimmer of makeup complimented her azure eyes. Liz felt quite confident and she hoped that this would last. No, hope wasn’t quite right word. She was determined to feel that way.

“You have something for us?” Ressler asked in his cocky way. “You’ve been gone long enough.” 

Liz suppressed a smile and studied her screen harder.

“I’ve been quite busy Donald and I do have something for you. The whereabouts of Cesar Portunio.” Red slid a slip of paper across the desk. “He arrives in Washington tomorrow under this alias, He will be staying at the Adams-Morgan hotel for two nights. I trust you will be there to arrest him.” 

“Of course - is this why you were gone so long?” Ressler asked. Red shrugged; his eyes were on Liz.

“Argentina, nice.” Liz nodded looking back at him. She realized that her fragile structure of self-protection was wobbling. His eyes looked to ready to swallow her and the tension between their bodies seemed like a physical force. She grabbed her laptop and snapped it shut. 

“I’ve got some research to do.” She announced to no one in particular and headed towards her office. She didn’t dare look up to see Red’s expression.

Once inside her office, she let out a shuddering sigh. She’d done it, she kept her cool and made the break. It was one small brick in what she hoped would grow into a healthy boundary. Leaning back in her chair she briefly closed her eyes, reiterating all the loving and self-caring things she’d done, all the nurturing she deserved..

Of course, Red would do what he wanted. He cleared his throat and her eyes flew open. He stood there with his deeply penetrating look and Liz felt his power once more. But she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid - she’d already been hurt. 

“Yes?” She asked blithely.

“You’re looking...very well,” He surveyed her body and face, tilting his head. She saw the barest glint of lust in his eye. 

“You look tired.” She said, puckering her lips. 

“Very saucy.” He said in his low, rough yet rich voice. Her neck actually twitched in response to the sound but she ignored it. Beneath his simple words she could see all that he was laying out for her, for them. In a few seconds, she imagined him fucking her right on the desk, her legs up in the air. 

Mentally waving away this image, she leaned back in her chair, formulating a response to his challenge.  
“Well, Reddington, thanks for bringing us Portunio. I’m sure we’ll find out how his arrest benefits you eventually,” She smiled satirically, folding her arms.

“You will eventually…You really do look very well… rested.” He half-smiled at her. Did he mean well-fucked? Probably he did. Now he wasn’t being careful about what buttons he was pushing. Apparently he meant to push them all.

Liz rose from her desk and stepped into his personal space with invasion on her mind. He leaned back a little, if only to keep his eyes on her face, removing his hat.

“Hmmm, I am thinking you were lonely in Argentina is that correct?” Her eyebrow flashed angrily but she placed the flat of her hand over his crotch and gently squeezed. The bastard smiled, not even that surprised. She felt him growing hard under her hand. “Maybe a little lonely,” She said, as she squeezed again and began stroking his hardness. The tip of his tongue touched his lip as she leaned in, close enough to kiss.

“Some of you is awake.” She murmured, using both hands now to find and open his pants. It was exhilarating. She knew she looked sexy and his response sent her confidence over the moon, shallow though the reason was.

He reached out a hand and closed the door of her office softly as she reached into his boxers and pulled out his throbbing cock. Now she could quite properly see his circumcised cock which was only slightly larger than average but quite thick. Liz closed her eyes briefly, imagining him pounding her with it. She ran her fingers over the head and he exhaled loudly. She began stroking it, tugging it. She slid down to her knees, still holding his now rock-hard cock with one hand.

She looked up to meet his eyes. He was captivated, mouth slightly open.

She began flicking over the head of his cock with her tongue, making it wet. It bobbed a little, like it was leaning forward for a kiss. Opening her lips she slowly slid all she could into her mouth, pressing her tongue to the underside. She then pulled back wetly and then went down again, finding her rhythm. She couldn’t help but feel her clit stiffen in response.

Red gave a muffled groan as he put his hands gently on her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She quickened her pace and his hips jerked. 

“Lizzy, I...I.” She had felt a vibrato on the underside of his shaft, his cock preparing to shoot it’s payload and she pulled back, leaving his cock twitching inches from her face.

“I’m surprised to get such a reaction, Red. Wouldn’t you prefer face-fucking me and calling me a slut? Or maybe you’d like me crawling to you begging for your cock anywhere and everywhere? Maybe you’d like to fuck me while I suck off someone else? She looked him in the eyes and she could tell all these scenarios were about to send him over the edge. He was staring at her eyes and mouth with lustfilled abandon. She moved her wet open mouth towards his cock again and he inhaled sharply in   
anticipation. Then she stopped.

“What you prefer is not an issue anymore.” She sat back on her heels and stood up shakily. This was going to be her hill to defend. She went behind her desk and nearly fell into her chair, her legs were trembling so much. She was filled with fear and her pussy was aching with desire.

Red said nothing. He swallowed once and blinked, lips compressed together. He stood there, and then looking down began fumbling with his waistband.

Oh my god, that was almost as good as getting fucked, she thought, looking at his shocked face. She crossed her legs, feigning control. She grabbed her laptop and opened it, not even registering what the hell was on the screen but looking intently at it none the less.

“A-agent Keen.” Reddington picked up his hat and placed it on his head with a subdued gesture. Liz looked up briefly, as if she didn’t just have his cock in her mouth.

“Reddington.” She nodded solemnly, suppressing the triumphant grin threatening to burst out on her face.

He left slowly, without another word. When he was gone Liz clapped her hands to her blushing cheeks and laughed. It was probably the only time she was going to get better of him. And she was intact; no piece of her was missing, or torn out. She was whole. She was herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we are drawing to a close here and soon. Thank you to everyone who has been reading!!


End file.
